


Seraph

by Bacchus



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brooding, Brothers, Drama, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Internal Conflict, Itachi's kind of a whore, M/M, Male Slash, Marriage Proposal, Old Friends, Pein is stupid as fuck, Pein/Itachi, Romance, Sappy Ending, Sasuke's adorable, Smut, Sub: NaruSasu, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:25:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bacchus/pseuds/Bacchus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The reason is... that i'm in love with you." -Pein is the epitome of in-control. His career is satisfactory, his lovelife pleasant and his friends trustworthy. Yes, Pein is the epitome of in-contol, except for the unfortunate predicament of having fallen in love with his sinfully attractive best friend. AU Yaoi. Slash. Pein/Itachi. PeinIta. Minor: NaruSasu.<br/>(Also posted at ff)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seraph

**Author's Note:**

> I disclaim any ownership of Naruto and all that.  
> So goes another imported story. You'll find it att ff.net as well. It's not proofed so there's a substantial danger of grammatic errors ahead. Also: Back when I wrote this story I'd just recently watched LotR and found myself putting tidbit quotes into the text; see if you can find them :)

Luscious lips, slightly parted, leisurely sipping the luxurious champagne.

Smooth skin, unbelievably flawless and fair, covered by expensive clothing.

Silky strands, impossibly black, falling effortlessly across a rigid back.

Ebony eyes, endless pits of darkness and shrouded mystery.

Godlike grace, every limb and every glance in perfect sync, floating through the room.

There was no other word, no synonym worthy of being applied to him. He was a walking miracle, a seraph come to earth. He was lust and he was sin. He was beauty and deception. He was the gorgeous winter, so cold, so unreachable, and yet promising the warmth of spring in every movement of his hand, every sway of his hips, every seductive smirk. Pein supressed the yearning sigh threatening to escape his lips.

_‘How did it come to this?’_

Itachi was his best friend, since before they even knew how to pronounce the word. They had gone through life, side by side, unanimously glaring to death any obstacle in their path. And yet, he had through some cruel fate fallen for him. Fallen for the one person in the world he could never have.

If he was to be reasonable with himself, he didn’t stand much of a chance against this particular opponent; not only was Itachi his best friend –and so one of the people closest to him –but he also possessed an inhuman aptitude for making men fall for him, whether it be falling in lust, in love, or in unhealthy obsession. Uchiha Itachi was commonly nicknamed _The Siren of Konoha_ for that very reason. It wasn’t simply his looks; his entire demeanour was like a lustful dance to entice his surroundings –and make them desire to fuck him through the well-polished wooden floor.

This was no news, however, as Itachi had always been excruciatingly beautiful, even as a child. Pein had never quite gotten used to it, and it still surprised him sometimes –especially when Itachi did something unexpected or just happened to come out of the shower right when Pein entered his apartment. He could willingly admit that he had been lusting for his best friend since they hit puberty and Itachi suddenly transformed from his beautiful friend to a virtual poster boy for pheromones. He had never moved beyond that superficial attraction, though, and had never intended to either. He would’ve been perfectly happy living his entire life without as much as a thought of Itachi’s soft lips whispering loving words in his ear.

Pein was not the sort of man to submit to his urges, and so he had never seriously considered having sex with his best friend, despite the obvious allure. Instead, he had maintained their close relationship as best friends and dated numerous women in the search of his true love –or at least someone he could put up with enough to marry. There had been a moment or two in high school and university during which his self-restraint had been close to breaking under the pressure of alcohol, proximity and Itachi’s wanton eyes, but he had prevailed. Why? Because his libido did not control his brain, his brain controlled his libido. Unfortunately, as he had discovered recently, his brain was a pussy push-over as soon as his heart cleared its throat.

He ran one hand through his orange locks, and let it fall down to absent-mindedly finger one of the piercings on his nose. It was a habit of his which he had entertained ever since he got the piercings during a bout of teenage rebellion. Normally he would never flaunt such habits in public –it indicated weakness, just like too much facial-expressions or a too emotional tone –but he had to do _something_ with his hands. The pent-up stress in his muscles acted like a poison designed to slowly kill him, his arms and legs itched with the need to move, to hit something.

“You seem bothered.”

Sinfully melodious voice, washing over him like the ocean over the shore. He turned to his best friend who was offering him a flute of champagne with the shadow of a smirk on his face.

Luscious lips.

“Do I?”, his voice was perfectly collected. It was the first commandment for the elite class –never let emotions show. The second was never _ever ever_ let emotions show, even if giant whales on stilts attack your home.

“You were touching your piercings.”

_‘I can’t touch you.’_

“Old habits die hard”, he answered and raised the flute to his lips. Itachi snorted softly, almost inaudibly.

Smooth skin.

“You never put it on public display”, his best friend said knowingly, “did you fight with Konan?”

Konan. Beautiful eyes. Charming smile. Intelligent conversationalist. She liked flowers, Pein remembered absent-mindedly. Despite the many years of closeness he could barely recall her in the presence of his current company.

Silky strands. They fell across one shoulder and Itachi set aside his own glass to tie them up in a loose ponytail, they always annoyed him when they got in his face. Pein clenched his hand into a tight fist to stop it from moving up to run through soft raven locks.

“Why do you always assume it’s about Konan?”, he replied instead, to keep his mind occupied lest it slip into visions of other situations when he might have his hand buried in Itachi’s hair.

“Because it always is.”

Not the truth. Konan was always the excuse. A good excuse too, it always worked.

A pink tongue escaped to moisture perfect lips.

_‘He will be the death of me.’_

“It’s nothing.” He tried to brush it off. Itachi wasn’t fooled; Pein could see it in his eyes.

Ebony eyes. Obsidian orbs.

_…hazed in lust as flawless skin was marred by his teeth and luscious lips were parted to allow moans and pants to fill the air between them. Silky strands unruly from friction and sweat, melodious voice whispering his name over and over…_

Pein quickly ripped himself away from the thought. So easily his mind had slipped into dangerous fantasies, so easily it had abandoned all reason while the subject of his imaginative daydreams was standing right in front of him. He had reached a point where it was perilous even speaking to his best friend.

“So who will it be tonight?”, he asked; a painful attempt to change the course of both his own thoughts and their shared conversation. The most self-mutilating of the subjects he could have chosen as distraction, but also the most effective. Itachi gave him a look that clearly stated that he had noticed the manoeuvre and remained aware of the pierced man’s apprehension towards their earlier subject. They both turned to critically scan the vast ballroom in search of worthy contestants.

“There’s no novelty”, Itachi said disinterestedly, “so it’ll probably be an old lay.”

Pein decisively swallowed the pain, forcing his mind to take control and re-direct his thinking-process to a completely logical survey.

“Hoshigaki seems keen enough”, he replied coolly, nodding at the tall African model standing by a table in the left end of the room, “he’s been watching you all evening.”

A single muscle in Itachi’s face twitched ever so slightly, so small a movement that it almost couldn’t be caught by the human eye. Pein, however, had spent his life training to read those miniscule reactions and caught it effortlessly. It was a twitch of distaste or annoyance.

“Kisame?”, said Itachi –and though his voice was as smooth and pleasant as always there was a tiny tinge of irritation imbedded in it, “no. He’s become much too… attached recently. Maybe Hidan”, he continued thoughtfully, looking at a man with bleached hair who stood by the entrance “he’s insane, I grant you, but the sex is satisfying.”

Pein grunted noncommittally. He had noticed Itachi’s unabashed attitude to sex when they were in their teens, and had adopted it himself to a certain degree. Still, it bothered him to have Itachi talk about it like it was as casual an occurrence as the weather-report. Of course, for Itachi it _was_.

He watched as his best friend was waved over by his father, a stern-looking man named Fugaku. Itachi handed his glass to a passing waiter who looked completely overthrown just being in the raven’s presence –Itachi could have that impression on people who weren’t used to him –and gave him a fleeting smirk in farewell, which Pein returned despite the fact that the muscles in his face felt sluggish and disconnected.

The most entertaining aspect of Itachi’s scandalous love-life was the fact that no one judged him for it. The elders and adults, as well as the women, were all so overwhelmed by his charisma, looks and flawless conduct that they forgave him any unchristian behaviour. Pein snorted into his glass when he saw Itachi arrive at the group, smiling politely at the people his father introduced him to –the three of them looked like they didn’t know what rabbit hole they’d fallen into. The teenage girl –their daughter, he assumed –was positively gawking.

 _‘I’m just as bad, just better at hiding it’_ , said an annoyingly truthful voice in his head –or was it his heart? –and he quickly sobered up. This wasn’t working –how on earth could it ever? He had fallen in love with his best friend.

Some might think that his situation was fairly easy to overcome; his best friend was gay, single, and already close to him. Sure, but to make a move would mean risking a friendship he had honed since he was less than two years old, and the odds that he would destroy it by confessing was a lot greater than the chance that he wouldn’t. He of all people knew how much Itachi loathed the attention he received wherever he went. How the raven despised everyone who threw themselves at his feet –man or woman –and how although he slept around he never allowed himself to develop any feelings for anyone. He never initiated a real relationship, and the reason was that everyone had always wanted him –for his looks and his demeanour and his social standing –and they had often claimed to fall in love with him as well. And so he could _never_ be truly sure whether a lover really wanted him for whom he was, or fooled themselves because they were mistakenly worshipping some sort of godlike apparition. Even Pein could not fathom how devastatingly lonely and painful Itachi’s fate was. To see, wherever you turned, gazes misty with lust or admiration, never clear enough to view him for what he was.

And that was exactly why Pein could never admit to Itachi how he felt. To rob him of one of the few people in the world who looked at him for who he was –it would be far too cruel. To hand to him the realisation that his _best friend_ was yet another brainless zombie starving for his affection.

_‘No. Itachi must never know.’_

It struck him then that his situation was actually quite humorous. He had been attracted to his best friends through junior high, through high school, through university, but it had always remained at that. He had dated, he had fucked around, and he had shagged lots and lots of girls (and a small number of guys). And now, when they were 26 years old and he had been in a relationship for nearly three years, it suddenly changed. _Now_ when he should be thinking about settling down, marrying, buying a nice house, getting the wife knocked up and wait for the house he bought to be swarming with tiny Pein-look-a-likes, _now_ his stupid heart decides that he should fall for his best friend.

He found it humorous for a few minutes, and then he just felt depressed. He wanted to leave the ridiculous event. He felt a headache coming on, creeping up his neck. He knows how this night will end –like every night like this –with Itachi leaving with Mr Right-for-Tonight and Pein spending the next day nursing a terrible hangover after trying to drown his sorrows in expensive liquor. He looked up and saw Itachi chatting with the madman –Hidan. Every one of the raven’s subtle movement screamed sensuality and sin.

Every movement of the hand and sway of the hips.

This was the bitter reality of his world. His best friend, _The Siren_ , the man who could have any other, the man who spent every night in another’s bed, the man who would sleep with any man young and attractive enough –except him. He was doomed to forever be the only exception to Itachi’s rule. He licked his lips. He needed a smoke, he was not in the mood for socialising and he was sorely fed up with this evening.

* * *

Smooth skin. Godlike grace. Soft, nimble fingers sliding across his heated skin…

“ _Pein_!”, he was brutally ripped from his thoughts and stared at Konan across the table, his inner in a state of paralysed embarrassment. They were sitting at one of their favourite café’s in downtown Konoha, and she had seemingly kept up a one-sided conversation whilst Pein floated into his Itachi-inspired lala-land.

“Sorry”, he said –his voice and expression as void of change as always, “I was thinking about work. What did you say?” Konan looked irked, but repeated herself all the same.

“I said ‘it looks like cinnamon delight’s back on the menu’, they removed it a few weeks ago, remember?”, she said impatiently.

“Ah”, Pein replied. She pierced him with a searching gaze and he hindered himself from shifting uncomfortably. He knew Konan had been increasingly annoyed with him of late, and he sympathised with her –he was annoyed with himself too.

“Pein”, her grave tone gave him the impression that he was in the middle of an intervention, “you haven’t been yourself lately. At all. You’ve always been closed off but…”, she trailed off, searching for the right words, “…but the last few months it’s like you’re not even here. Like you’re constantly drifting off to a place where I can’t follow.” She fell silent. Pein didn’t answer.

They sat, perfectly still, staring at one another. The waiter arrived with their order –tea and a sandwich for Konan, plain coffee for Pein. Finally, he managed to collect himself and find his forgotten voice.

“I’m sorry”, he repeated, “there’s been… a lot going on recently. Work and other things.” He couldn’t find anything else to say, couldn’t bring himself to make yet another pointless excuse for her to see right through. She looked at him, inquiringly, pointedly asking for more when he knew he could give nothing else.

“I’ve been in a fair share of relationships”, she said, “and several times men have told me they love me. I haven’t stayed, either because I couldn’t return their feelings or because there was something else that didn’t work. Point is, I know what it looks like when a man is in love with me… and you’re not.” He had no defence, no excuse, she continued relentlessly: “In the beginning I didn’t quite notice it, and I couldn’t expect you to love me anyhow. You’ve never been very good at expressing emotions, and that’s actually one of the reasons why I like you… but though you act like a boyfriend should –you pay attention, you act lovingly and you’ve never been unfaithful to me –I know you well enough to know that there is no romantic love there.” That wasn’t strictly true, Pein did love Konan as a friend, but he was also attracted to her. Still, she was principally correct.

“I-”, he began, but she cut him off.       

“I don’t know what’s bothering you, but I wish you would tell me”, she sighed, “I wanted to meet you here today to tell you that I think maybe we should take some time to think. As long as you need to –to figure out your feelings.” Pein swallowed the confession that seemed to bubble up from the neighbourhood of his heart. Konan was the closest friend he had –save for Itachi –and he often turned to her with difficult issues. She was calm and logical and never judged a person or situation too early –which was the main reason he had managed to stay in a relationship with her for so long. Had she not been his girlfriend he would have turned to her with his impossible dilemma, but as things were…

His mute reply seemed to be enough for her, and she rose from the table and bade him farewell, then left in a hazy cloud of blue hair and the soft scent of flowers in bloom.

* * *

“Your lungs must hate you.”

Pein turned around to see the youngest Uchiha walking up to him. He was standing on a street in Konoha’s central shopping district, cigarette in hand, waiting for his friend Deidara to show up so they could go to lunch.

“Hello to you too, Sasuke”, he replied drily. He had known the littlest Uchiha for 22 years running –since the boy was born –and had always considered him a younger brother. He didn’t have as much patience with the boy as Itachi had, but couldn’t help loving the non-conservative youth anyway. “Since when do you complain about my health-hazardous habits?” He asked. Sasuke shrugged.

“Since never. Can I have one?” Pein handed him a cigarette and the young raven lit it and breathed in, apparently revelling in the taste.

“You look like you haven’t had one for days”, he mused aloud. The youngest Uchiha had been a smoker for nearly as long as he and Itachi, and Pein had not caught him without a pack of his own for years.

“Naruto’s whining”, Sasuke clarified for him, “says it’s bad for my health and burns every pack he finds.” Pein smirked at him.

“Really?” Sasuke must love his boyfriend a lot to allow that kind of behaviour –but he did, and both Pein and Itachi knew that.

“Fucking goody-two-shoes”, Sasuke muttered, “you’d think he was my mother.” Pein chuckled quietly. Uchiha Mikoto, loving wife and mother, spent at least two hours every week trying to rid her sons of their nicotine-addiction.

“So what brings you here, chibi?”, he asked, using the nickname he’d come up with when he was seven and Sasuke three, “don’t you have class?” The raven glared at him.

“Don’t call me that!”, he growled, “and I have math. My professor creeps me out so I’m skipping all his classes.” Somehow, Pein was not surprised. Whether it was because he was the spoiled second son or if he was just born that way Sasuke had always been more emotional and impulsive than was considered acceptable for an Uchiha.

“He creeps you out?”, said Pein conversationally. Sasuke nodded.

“I don’t wanna talk about it”, he said sullenly and Pein took notice that the boy had even adapted Naruto’s careless speech, “so how are things with my brother anyway?” Pein flinched mentally, but managed to remain unperturbed on the outside. Truth was he had deliberately avoided Itachi ever since the function Saturday night. It was Thursday and he was running out of excuses to give the elder Uchiha. This friendly date with Deidara was in fact just another manoeuvre to evade Itachi’s suggestion that they meet up for lunch.

“Haven’t seen him in a few days”, said Pein truthfully. Sasuke raised one impossibly dark eyebrow in surprise –a careful replica of his older brother’s habit to do the same.

“I thought you two could barely last two days without exchanging gossip like two old wives”, he said carelessly, “he crashed at home Saturday night with some strange dude, annoyed the hell out of me –I had an essay to hand in Monday.” Sasuke continued, annoyance painting his voice, “not that I’m not used to his moans and screams, but you’d think he was considerate enough to not have sex against my bedroom door.” Pein’s throat constricted unpleasantly. He enjoyed talking to the youngest Uchiha, and appreciated the boys apparent lack of orthodox speech and behaviour, but lately he felt as if the boy grasped any opportunity to rub Itachi’s sexual exploits in his face.

“Eloquent as always”, he answered smoothly, “and unlike you and Mr blonde and obnoxious we can be apart for a few days without self-imploding.” He looked up to see Deidara exit the building ahead. “And that seems to be my cue for leaving, take care Sasuke.”

Itachi’s younger brother waved lazily in farewell and took off along the busy street.

* * *

 

“Hoshigaki-san”, Pein greeted pleasantly as he slipped into the empty seat opposite the model. The half-African, half-Japanese, and entirely tall and muscly man nodded in reply. They were in a classy café close to Pein’s office –chosen for the sake of the pierced man’s convenience –and although he would enjoy the exquisite coffee, Pein could not say the same for his company.

“You wished to see me?”, he asked, not letting his impatience at the other man’s mute response show.

“Yes”, said the model, “thank you for taking the time.” Pein didn’t answer, he wanted the meeting to be over and done with, and he was irked at the informality of the setting. Hoshigaki Kisame, successful model or not, was far below him on the class-scale. A different cast, if you so wish. The dark man fiddled with his cup of herbal tea – _‘Herbal tea? Honestly, the man is practically a woman’_ thought Pein derisively as he brought his own, dark and _manly_ coffee to his lips.

“You are Itachi’s best friend.” Hoshigaki said finally. Pein felt the slight annoyance which had been simmering in his mind flare up and morph into a blazing fire of anger. How dare the man name Itachi without suffix? Itachi-san would have been impudent enough for someone who should have referred to him as Uchiha-sama, but _Itachi_?

“I am”, he answered coldly. He was aware that in another’s company he might not have taken the rules of conduct so seriously, although they were firmly imprinted in his backbone. If you were raised within the system of the high-end of society you were automatically insulted whenever someone discarded the rules. He was particularly insulted today, however, on account of the black man’s close relationship with Itachi.

“I wished to meet you because of this”, said Hoshigaki impudently, “and ask of you to please respect his private space.” Pein could barely believe his ears. His _what now_?

“I beg your pardon?”, he asked incredulously. The nerve of this man was beyond him, socially as well as emotionally. The model sighed, staring into his cup.

“Well, you have a girlfriend do you not?” He questioned. Before Pein could inform him just how much this was none of his business he continued: “and Itachi respects that. So perhaps you should respect that he needs time for his love life as well. It seems-“, Hoshigaki’s voice had become less unsure now and he raised his gaze to meet Pein’s, “-that whenever I want to meet him he has plans with you. He is too kind to relinquish these plans and so, we barely have time to see each-other.”

Pein was speechless for a moment. Of all the insane, disillusioned basket-cases Itachi had fucked around with, this one was definitely top five. _Too nice_! He had to use every last ounce of self-control to keep himself from laughing in the model’s face. Itachi was _too nice_? He even forgot to be angry at the man’s obvious insolence; one had to feel sorry for such a mentally-retarded opponent. Once he had digested the initial shock, however, he felt wrath blend together with sadistic humour as he regarded the man icily.

“Interesting”, he said languidly, “I was under no impression that you and ‘Tachi were dating, or for that matter that you were in any kind of relationship save for a few sexual encounters.” He smirked at the man, relishing in the anger that flashed in Hoshigaki’s eyes at the deliberately used nickname. He never called Itachi _‘Tachi_ anymore unless he was half-asleep or drunk, but it served its purpose to annoy the dark man.

“You don’t know anything about him!”, Hoshigaki growled. Pein raised an eyebrow, mimicking the Uchiha brothers’ favourite facial expression when surprised.

“Really? So you’ve met twenty to thirty times, had sex eight of those and suddenly I know nothing?”, he was in what he and Itachi referred to as Zen-mode, a state when he suppressed all emotionally-based reactions, surrounding himself with a mental shield of cold, calculating logic. It was ideal when dealing with a troublesome opponent. “What interesting mind you must have, Hoshigaki-san, to draw such a conclusion, and what brilliant self-confidence if you believe that simply encountering you a few dozen times and having your dick shoved inside him occasionally, would eradicate me completely from Itachi’s perception.”

“Fine!”, Hoshigaki looked positively livid at this point, “so you know him, but that doesn’t mean that you know anything _about_ him, you don’t understand him.” He gripped his tea-cup in a dangerously cramped hand. “What I’m trying to tell you is that I _want_ to date him, but you’re making that impossible.”

“Why would you want to date him?”, Pein countered although he already knew the answer.

“Because I love him!”

 _‘“I love him, I’m the only one who understands him, you’re in the way, you’re bad for him”, how many times have I heard those words?’_ , he thought tiredly. He contemplated what to answer the madman opposite him. Normally he would have told him to shove something unpleasant up his rear, but today he thought he might take a leaf from Itachi’s book and ask the question the raven always asked when somebody claimed to love him.

“Why? Why do you love him?” He was fuelled by a sudden curiosity, an urge to know if the insane stalkers who claimed they loved Itachi did so for the same reasons as he. He wanted to rectify his own love, be sure that it was not of their kind, that _he_ was not the same as the faceless mass of suitors.

“I…”, Hoshigaki paused, “I love everything about him. I love how he’s afraid to show emotions or seem weak, and yet he seems to be searching for someone whom he can show his vulnerable side to. I want to be that person. I love how he always smirks instead of smiling, and how he’s so beautiful without making any effort… and how he always wants his coffee black and how, even though he loves and respects his father above any other, he secretly wants to break free from him”, Hoshigaki ranted on. Pein had lost interest.

 _‘Itachi pretends to want his coffee black, but actually prefers to add milk, he is in no way in awe or afraid of his father and is most certainly not bound to him in any way he has not chosen for himself. Besides, to claim Itachi’s nice is like stating that Lady Gaga is going for commercialism’_ , his mind supplied tiredly. So much for understanding and loving the Uchiha.

“Well”, he said, rising from the table, “if you’re finding it hard to see Itachi then I am not the one stopping you, he is. Please refrain from contacting me again.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the café.

* * *

He stared at the mirror. His reflection stared back. He was trying, and had tried for the last half-hour, to see himself from an outwardly perspective. He looked good, granted he was no _Siren_ , but he had a touch of masculine good looks. His orange hair –an eternal source of issues as a child when he time and again was forced to prove that it was, in fact, his natural hair colour –was wildly styled upon his head, and strands of it fell lightly unto his pale face. His piercings, three on each side of his nose and a large number climbing up each earlobe, gave him the image of a gruff and intimidating man –he had ridded himself of the snakebites he had in his teens a few years back, but the rest he was too emotionally attached to. He was tall as well, one eighty-eight with a slim yet muscled build. Still, it was his eyes that usually attracted much attention; each iris was a swirling blue-lilac colour extraordinary even in western countries. Itachi had once told him that he had dragon’s eyes –eyes that shifted colour when he experienced strong emotions. He had told him that they turned blue and frosty in anger, and a warm purple when he was happy, content or –in love. He stared at his eyes; they were quite the same colour as always. He wondered briefly if Itachi saw them shift in purple when he looked at him, or if they turned green-tinged when he regarded one of the raven’s man-toys.

He sighed. He saw in the mirror the same person he had always known staring back at him through eyes that to any other were unreadable, but to himself divulged far too much emotion. What a mess he found himself in, and how fate loved to torture those who had always evaded her with cold logic and stifled movements. He stared at his face in the mirror. It hadn’t changed since he found himself in love; although one day his inside went through an earth-shattering remodel, his exterior remained the same. It made him question himself; surely such transformation of his life and soul must show? Was he merely fooling himself to believe he was in love with Itachi? Was this, perhaps, his subconscious’ way of informing him that Konan was not the right girl? Was he running from the most serious relationship he had ever had because he was afraid of what it would entail to maintain it? Was this simply fearing renewal, fear of letting someone get close enough to see the real him? Fear to hand out the last piece of him, the key to crush or conquer him?

But then he knew that wasn’t true either. He had handed that key to Itachi many years ago, without a second thought. They were one soul in two bodies… or used to be at least.

He couldn’t say when he started loving Itachi, but he knew when he had realised it; seven months ago, seven agonising months. Based on what you read and hear about, that sort of revelation is triggered by some kind of huge event or revealing confession. That was, however, not the case for Pein. There had been no sudden surge of emotion when he saw Itachi with another man, he had felt no urge to declare his love in the twilight of the sunset with a choir in the background and he had not come to terms with himself after some deep discussion. No, Pein had simply thought about his life as one does at times, and suddenly been hit by the realisation that he was in love with his best friend. Needless to say, he had spent a few months denying it before finally accepting his fate as forever trapped in unrequited love.

He blinked at himself in the mirror. Everything was falling apart underneath him; he couldn’t look his best friend in the eye, he couldn’t do his girlfriend justice and he spent most of his day morosely reflecting upon his own choices, actions and feelings. Something had to be done lest he lose everything without even trying to keep it together.

* * *

 

“It’s barely been a week Pein”, Konan said when she had reached him. He had asked to meet her in Konoha state park in the middle of the city. The day was sunny and the breeze was refreshing yet not too chilly, despite the impending autumn. An elderly couple was taking a walk along the lake and two small children were playing in the playground by the parking lot. The setting was ideal for what he was about to do.

“I know, but I’ve decided.” Konan looked apprehensive and fiddled nervously with her hair.

“I’m not too sure, Pein, it’s been too short for you to think things through properly.” Pein looked her straight in the eye.

“Konan, will you marry me?”

* * *

The door was tragically familiar; how many times had he not walked through it without contemplating what he was doing? He even had his own key... and yet, here he was –afraid to grab the handle and push it open. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

 _‘At times, we must step out from the easiest path and embark on one of our own choice’_ , he thought decisively as he entered the apartment. Mankind in general preferred to walk the easiest road, that is to say, the road which one ended up on if one made no deliberate changes. Still, that road always led to ruin, and every now and again one must resolve to alter one’s aim to keep on the path that you actually wish to be on. To let habit and familiarity lead your life is not only a sign of sloth, but of foolishness.

The apartment was dark, and he wondered for a brief moment if the owner had not yet come home, but then he heard the muffled jingling of ice being placed in a glass and silently walked into the living room. Itachi looked up from the bar, a glass of whiskey on rocks in his hand, and smirked.

“There you are”, he said easily and stalked over to the armchair closest to the panorama-windows, “I haven’t seen you in two weeks. What’s so urgent?” Pein didn’t reply, instead he stared out at the city below. Itachi lived in the penthouse of one of the tallest central buildings in Konoha and the pierced man had always loved the view. Now, when the only light inside the apartment was a solitary lamp on the sofa’s side-table he could enjoy the lanterns of the dark city almost without disturbance.

“I need to talk to you”, he finally replied. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. His mind had been reeling all the way to Itachi’s apartment, but now it had suddenly frozen and seemed incapable of even the simplest thought. He felt tense; cold and warm at the same time. His libs were freezing and his palms sweating –he was afraid, for the first time in many years. He knew that this might very well be the end of their friendship. But he saw no other exit. He felt like someone had replaced the blood in his veins with lead, like he had swallowed burning ice. His throat constricted, impossibly dry.

Itachi sat down in the armchair.

Godlike grace.

He sipped the whiskey.

Luscious lips.

“You said.”

Sinfully melodious voice.

Pein made a noise, somewhere between a reply and a wheezing cough. Itachi raised an eyebrow. Pein cleared his throat.

“I don’t know where to begin”, he began, his air pipes felt scratchy, “and honestly I wish I didn’t have to, but to not say this is the same as to do…” He didn’t make sense.

“What is it? Did something happen with Konan again? Is that why I haven’t seen you for two weeks?”, Itachi asked. Pein knew he was worried; Itachi only ever talked this much when he was concerned or upset.

“Konan”, he said, a memory flashing by as his cheek stung, “…I proposed to her today.” Itachi’s eyes widened marginally.

“You’re getting married?”, Pein knew something was off in Itachi’s voice, but he was too frozen, too scared to recognise it.

“No”, he answered, as if from another world, he felt immensely present yet completely cut-off at the same time, “she slapped me.” Itachi snorted.

“Why?”

Smooth skin, unblemished.

“Said I was obviously covering up my lack of feelings for her, and that I should find true love instead of settling.” He felt his hands shaking, adrenaline coursing through the lead in his veins. So tired and so energized.

“Did she?”, Itachi mused and took another sip from his glass, “well, I can see why you’re upset then. Single again.” He lit a cigarette and grasped it between long, perfect fingers.

“That’s not why I wanted to talk to you”, said Pein with the weight of invisible sand in his lungs, “or, it is in one way.” Itachi raised both eyebrows to tell him he made no sense. “The reason why Konan and I have drifted apart is…”, he swallowed desperately, dried up and airless, “that I’m in love with you.”

Silence gripped the room in icy claws, the seconds that passed felt like lifetimes and every breath felt like a scorching burn in his chest. Then, Itachi’s head fell back against the chair and he laughed –a low, throaty and entirely humourless laugh.

“I should have known”, he mumbled when he was done, “that fate hates me this much.” A cold hand squeezed Pein’s heart. “Even my best friend can’t resist it, huh?”, Itachi continued –addressing the ceiling, “this curse of mine.” He raised his head and looked straight at the orangette: “you don’t love me Pein, you just finally fell for whatever spell I manage to twist my surroundings with. I must say you lasted longer than anyone else –I almost thought you were immune… but no such luck I guess.” Pein felt crushed, splintered. He had expected a rejection, but to belittle his feelings? Even though he knew why Itachi did it, he still couldn’t believe that his best friend would cast aside his emotions without a second thought. Devastation gave way to anger as he realised what Itachi was saying, it warmed him, made him unfreeze and join the world of the living again.

“Twenty-four years”, he growled through gritted teeth, “and you think I’d destroy our friendship because I wanted to _fuck_ you?” Itachi watched him, expressionless. “If that was all there was to it, I would have fucked you through every wall in the house when I was fourteen! You _know_ that I don’t let lust rule above logic, _Itachi_ ”, he spat the name as if it was venomous, months of pent-up emotions flowing out. How _dare_ he suggest that his feelings were products of uncontrolled libido?

“ _Yes_ I think you’re attractive”, he continued relentlessly, it felt as if he’d opened a tap and it was all pouring out, lust, love, self-hatred, resentment…“of course I do! Any man in their right mind would! But do you actually think so little of me that you believe I would mistake that raw sexual attraction for love? Do you?” Itachi didn’t answer, Pein didn’t let him either, he pushed on, so relieved to finally let go of his anger and frustration “When I say I love you, I don’t mean that I love your body, or your voice or any other rubbish like that.” He breathed heavily now, irrational anger muddling his brain. Itachi flicked the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray on the side-table and waited in silence. Pein forced himself to calm down, to compose himself. He controlled his breathing until it was normal once more and then stared Itachi squarely in the eyes.

“When you’re annoyed or angry”, when he spoke his voice was deliberately soft and calm, “one of the muscles above your left eyebrow makes the smallest twitch. That’s how I know that you’ve never liked Konan, since whenever you or I talk about her that muscle twitches. Still, you’ve never said an ill word against her, nor have you ever been rude or cold in her company, because you knew she was important to me.” He refused to look away from Itachi’s emotionless eyes. “I know that though you respect your parents and your clan, and though you’re fond of your friends, the only person alive that you love whole-heartedly is Sasuke. I know, because when you talk about him the corner of your mouth twitches upwards into the smallest of smiles. No matter what he’s done, no matter if he’s told you that you’re the bane of his existence and you should die in a cupboard you still have that expression.”

“I know that you care little for other’s impression of you, and you keep up appearances simply because it is the most comfortable course of action. I know this because although I rarely see you smile –and never in the presence of the social elite –when you do, when you’re truly enjoying yourself, all masks, all falseness fall aside. I can sympathise, since I too am raised the way you are.” He felt his energy dwindle as he reached the end of his speech. “I’ve been with you for nearly all your life, Itachi. Your brother is my brother, your anger is my anger and your tears –however rarely they appear –are my tears. It’s because of all of this, and everything else that I’m sure that I _do_ love you. You are the only one who ever sees me like this, and the only one who has never judged me or hurt me purposely… until tonight at least.” He finally broke eye-contact with the dark haired man. 

“I know I should never have told you this, and I didn’t intend to. But I couldn’t keep up our friendship however I tried, and I felt you should at the very least know the reason. Know why I suddenly disappeared.” He turned towards the hallway. “I’m leaving; you won’t have to see me again. But Itachi, if you keep assuming that no one likes you for your inside rather than your appearance then you’ll be alone for a very long time.” He was almost at the door when Itachi’s voice slithered out from the living room:

“Pein. Get in here.” It was a command, although the tone was smooth and quiet. He turned and walked back, despite himself. Itachi was still sitting down and watched him as he re-entered the room. The raven sighed and rubbed a perfect hand over his face. “You’ve always had a flair for dramatics”, he said tiredly, “you’re going to leave without even letting me reply to your touching speech?” He had a point. “Make a drink and sit down.” Pein obeyed, pouring himself a glass of whiskey –straight –and sitting down on the couch.

“So”, said Itachi and put his own –empty –glass down on the table, “although people often regard us as almost disturbingly alike we have several great dissimilarities. Your theatrical streak is one of them. Your tendency to decide the outcome of a discussion beforehand is another. When you came here tonight you had already decided that this would be the end of our friendship, or of any relationship between us.” Pein didn’t answer, but they both knew it was the truth. The Uchiha sighed and lit another cigarette.

“Last year my brother was livid with me”, he said conversationally, “I slept with his friend, Juugo, remember?” Pein shook his head, no recollection. “No? Well he told me I was a stupid arse and to stay off his friends. I told him it wouldn’t happen again. He was still angry…”, Itachi breathed out a lungful of smoke, “he told me to stop sleeping around just because I couldn’t have sex with the person I actually wanted. Then he told me to get over myself and just realise that I was in love with you already, and stop fucking his friends just because they have orange hair.” Pein’s emotions –so rarely utilised–went into overdrive until he couldn’t quite pinpoint what he was feeling. The most pronounced one, however, and the one which had been painfully absent until that point, was hope. Itachi sighed heavily and stared at the ceiling.

“My little brother is as foolish and naïve as his boyfriend, and has little knowledge of real life”, Pein absent-mindedly noticed that the small, affectionate smile which always accompanied Itachi’s speeches about his brother was present, “but he does make a fair point once in a while.” Itachi finally looked him in the eye again: “I’ve probably been in love with you for a long time.”

The silence was unquestionably different from the previous, icy stifling muteness. It was tense and warm and filled with hope, promises and a large amount of awkward fear. At last, Itachi rose from his chair and strolled towards the bar again.

“I’m done now”, he said airily, “you should probably go home so we can both sleep on this.” Pein knew what Itachi was actually saying. _‘Take your time to make sure that this isn’t just a fluke, because if it is, I can’t handle it moving beyond this point.’_

“Itachi”, he said quietly, “C’mere.” He heard the soft footsteps of the Uchiha as he moved around the couch to stand in front of him.

“What?”

Ebony eyes.

He reached up and grabbed a smooth, perfect hand, pulling Itachi down so the shorter man fell upon him. With the Uchiha straddling him he took Itachi’s beautiful face in his hands and kissed him. He buried his hands in silky strands, forced his way past luscious lips. Into the kiss he poured all his feelings, his anger, his frustration, his love and his lust. He felt nimble fingers reach into his own orange locks as Itachi answered ferociously. The taste was maddening, addictive –a mixture of cigarettes, alcohol and something else, something he had only ever caught in the wisp of a scent before –Itachi’s own fragrance, Itachi’s own taste. They broke for air, his pipes and lungs now worked opposite of how they had earlier; they seemed smooth and almost invincible, like he barely had to breathe at all. He stroked his thumb across Itachi’s pale cheek.

“You think I’d leave when you’ve just told me something like that?”, he murmured looking into Itachi’s bottomless eyes.

“Such flair for dramatics”, Itachi replied breathlessly.

“Shh.” He slid his hands down and wrapped them around the Uchiha’s slim waist and kissed him again. He felt an inkling of fear as he did this, fear that he would become so addicted those kisses that he’d never want to stop and finally one day would die from oxygen shortage. Itachi moaned into the kiss, nibbling his lip playfully. He growled and, in one fluid moment, slid his hands to rest on Itachi’s ass and rose from the sofa, bringing the beautiful man with him. The shorter man immediately fastened his legs around him and let himself get carried towards the bedroom, feverishly kissing any part of the Pein’s face and neck he could reach while they moved.

They tumbled down on the bed, still locked in an attempt to touch every and any part of the other they could. Pein worked on the buttons of Itachi’s shirt whilst trailing kisses and bites down his collarbone. Finally getting it open he pushed it out of the way and attacked the perfect, ivory skin on the Uchiha’s chest. Itachi buried his hands in Pein’s hair as the taller man grazed one nipple with his teeth and bucked upwards to achieve some friction for his hardened member. Pein growled as their crotches made contact and tingling pleasure danced from his hips. In a blur of fabric, limbs and desperate hands and lips he managed to get Itachi out of his clothes completely and the raven-haired man managed to rid him of his shirt, immediately retaliating for Pein’s previous assault.

Pein closed his eyes as Itachi licked and nipped the muscles of his chest and stomach, leaving dark marks wherever he pleased. Out of patience, he pushed the man backwards on the bed, lifting his long, shapely legs and grazing the underside of his thighs with his teeth. Itachi moaned wantonly, his head thrown back against the covers, while Pein kissed his way to Itachi’s raised knees and straightened one leg to suck on the sensitive skin in the crook behind the kneecap. Satisfied, he moved on along the calf, to the foot, and licked the sole languidly from heel to toe. He looked over to see Itachi propped on his elbows, breathing heavily, his lust-filled dark eyes fixed on Pein. With a smirk, the orangette took one toe into his mouth and sucked.

Itachi’s arms gave way and he fell back on the mattress again, moaning breathlessly. Pein continued to suck the digit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, all the while watching the beautiful Uchiha’s reaction. Pein had always been a physical kind of man, and sex for him was an opportunity to explore the body of another completely. He released the toe, content with Itachi’s reaction, and moved upwards again. He deliberately forewent the painfully hard cock to focus on Itachi’s arms; his fingers were given the same treatment as the toe, the crook of his elbow the same as the bend of his knee. He worked his way up to the raven’s neck, making sure to break skin as he marked his territory, and latched onto Itachi’s ear. He had long since abandoned his everyday restraint and turned into his true self; a sadistic beast keen on tasting flesh. He felt Itachi’s blunt nails scratching his back for attention and finished by claiming the man’s mouth. The kiss was nowhere near soft or loving; it was a vicious battle for dominance and cry for sinful continuation. Breaking apart, he looked down on the man, a superior smirk on his face. Itachi growled.

“Get –get on with it already”, he panted, silky locks mussed up from friction and perspiration. His endless eyes spoke of danger to come if the man didn’t comply.

“Anything you say, love”, Pein replied huskily, his nails trailing patterns across Itachi’s chest. He slid down again, dipping his tongue in the shorter man’s navel as he passed it. Regarding Itachi’s cock, painfully aware of his own straining against the confines of his pants, he thoughtfully licked the top and was rewarded with a vicious hissing from his lover, Itachi’s hands gripping the cover of the bed desperately.

He wanted to explore this further, wanted to taste more than just the pre-come leaking from Itachi’s member. But he also didn’t want to end their fun just yet. Instead, he trailed his tongue from the base and up while his fingers slipped in to rub the sensitive skin behind the sack. Itachi writhed on the bed.

“’Tachi”, he murmured, letting his breath ghost over the top of the organ, “lube?” The Uchiha, barely coherent, waved haphazardly towards the bedside table.

“Top drawer”, he breathed. Pein slid over to find it and heard Itachi moan in complaint over his disappearance. Quickly returning, he popped the cap open and spread the lube over his fingers. He had slept with a few guys before –in university when all and any are in their ‘experimental’ phase –but never this… thoroughly. And he was certainly enjoying it.

He let his fingers slide down to Itachi’s opening and unceremoniously pushed the first digit inside. Itachi groaned as he pushed and prodded. Lifting one of the raven’s pale legs, he kissed it apologetically as he pulled out and pushed two fingers in, scissoring and searching. He knew he had found the right spot when Itachi arched of the bed with a muffled yell.

“There, hm?”, he asked sadistically, even though he was nearly as breathless as his lover.

“Gods… _Yes_ ”, Itachi replied as Pein continued to push and prod against his prostate.

Swiftly removing his fingers, he fiddled with getting out of his own pants and boxers –work made much more difficult by sex-induced adrenalin and fingers slippery with lube. He sighed in relief as his member was finally freed, but quickly refocused on the task at hand when Itachi sat up and grabbed him by the neck to crush their lips together. When the raven deemed himself done, Pein’s lips bruised and bloody, he drew back.

“So eager”, murmured the orangette and pushed Itachi down again. He quickly coated himself and moved closer to the pale man, but had a last-moment change of mind. Grabbing the beautiful man’s thighs he lifted Itachi’s hips and, with an evil smirk in the raven’s general direction, flipped him. The Uchiha yelped and then growled out his protest at the manhandling. Pein ignored him in favour for grabbing his hips more firmly and pulling him up on all fours. Satisfied with the new position, he let his hands slide over to part the pale cheeks of Itachi’s ass and expose his puckered opening. In full beast-mode, he leant in and ran his tongue over it. The body beneath him shuddered at the action. Ever so tortuously slow, he repeated the motion over and over, leaving Itachi on quivering arms and legs. Finally, he stilled his tongue and then pushed it past the twitching ring of muscles. He lapped eagerly at the hole, incentivised by Itachi’s desperate movements to increase the friction.

Maliciously smiling he drew back completely, positioned himself behind his lover and before Itachi could really comprehend what was happening thrust himself in to the hilt.

“ _F-fuck…_ ”, Itachi gasped. Pein hummed in agreement. The pressure around his cock was nearly unbearable, and the raven knew what he was doing. Arching his back, he clenched his muscles daringly around Pein’s member. Growling, the orangette rolled his hips, pulled out until only the head of his dick remained inside his lover, and then crushed back in with full force.

This set the feverish pace; Itachi pushing back, Pein pushing forward, both with no regard to ‘going slow’ or ‘being careful’. Pein had the impression then that the two of them would never be able to ‘make love’ in the careful, sweet sense. They were both beings of crudeness, and both liked it fast, hard and rough. Besides, anything they did always seemed to morph into a contest of some sort.

He reached down to stoke Itachi’s member, his other hand lodged around the raven’s hip, as he pounded into the lithe body beneath him. The Uchiha’s moaned words had long since become undecipherable but every now and again he could hear his name mixed into the gibberish.

Pleasure was building in his abdomen, whiteness playing behind his eyelids. Hissing, he reached forward to grab Itachi’s hair and turn his head to face him. The raven complied, locking eyes with him in a haze of lust and bliss. Bending their bodies in a slightly awkward angle he attacked luscious lips, locking Itachi in a fierce kiss as they tumbled over the edge of reason. Itachi came in his hand, with a scream against his lips, with two thrust into the increased tightness he came as well, spilling his load inside his lover.

They fell down beside each-other, panting heavily and still riding the after-effects of the orgasm. After some time, when they could move again, Itachi rolled over to glare at him.

“Who the hell taught you how to be good at gay sex?”, he asked venomously. Pein snorted.

“You should know me better than that, ‘Tachi”, he said with a smirk, “I’m a prodigy, I’m good at everything. It’s natural instinct.”

“Yeah right”, Itachi grumbled uncharacteristically, “I won’t be able to walk for days.” Pein didn’t reply, but dug through the top drawer of the bedside table again. Finding the pack of Marlboro he was looking for, he extracted two cigarettes and a plastic lighter from it, handed one to Itachi and lit his own.

“Is it true that you slept with Juugo because he had orange hair?”, he asked musingly. Itachi grabbed the lighter and lit his own cigarette, inhaling the smoke with a satisfied expression on his face.

“I’m not quite sure myself.”

“Take a guess.”

“Yeah, probably.” Pein smiled, a purring sense of possession lingering in his chest.

“Good”, he replied.

They had a lot of issues to handle, and a lot of awkward situations to look forward to, but they could handle that in the morning.

* * *

 

“ _Aniki_!”

**_Slam!_ **

Pein bolted up into a sitting position, staring at the youngest Uchiha standing in the doorway with bleary-eyed confusion. Sasuke stared back, if not equally bleary-eyed then at least equally confused. Pein glanced over to the elder Uchiha, still sleeping soundly next to him by the looks of it. He looked back at the younger version in time to see the bewildered expression morph into one which the orange-haired man could only define as a mixture between smugness and glee.

“Sooo”, Sasuke drawled, sauntering into the room, “finally pulled someone worthwhile ne, nii-san?” He asked the bundle on Pein’s right. Sighing, the pierced man reached for the pack of cigarettes, extracting and lighting one. Bouts between the siblings were a fairly common occurrence, and one he had learnt not to interfere in. Itachi, it seemed, had not been as asleep as he appeared since he turned his head –hair messy and eyes unfocused –to glare at his younger brother.

“Whadoyou wan’ Sas’ke?”, he slurred sleepily. The younger Uchiha shrugged and plopped down on the foot of the bed.

“Well I was coming to tell you something, but I see there’s bigger news on the agenda”, he purred, “so when’s the wedding? Am I invited?” Pein rested his head against the wall, _honestly_.

“Time?” Itachi asked him. He glanced over at the alarm clock.

“Eight fifteen”, he replied. The elder Uchiha focused his drowsy gaze on his younger brother.

“You come here at eight fifteen in the godforsaken morning –on a _Sunday_ –and you expect me to answer ridiculous questions like that?” Sasuke rolled his eyes.

“Be that way then. I just came to tell you that Naruto and I are going to Europe for a month, in two weeks. As for this”, he gestured to the two lovers, “you can tell me about it at dinner tonight, since I see my presence here is unwanted” He rose from the bed and walked towards the open door.

“I’m not going”, Itachi finally dragged himself into a sitting position and stole the cigarette from Pein’s lips.

“What?”, Sasuke turned around to regard his brother.

“I said”, Itachi said coolly, “I’m not going to family dinner tonight.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow.

“One does not simply not go to family dinner, aniki”, he replied, “there are consequences for that which no man would willingly endure.” Namely Mikoto’s fury and disappointment, but that would best be left out of the discussion.

“Otouto”, Itachi said with practiced calm, “I have, as you so rightly put it, finally pulled someone worthwhile; I am not leaving this apartment for at least three days. Besides”, he glared at Pein who tried to look innocent, “I won’t be able to go anywhere at all today, seeing as how I doubt I’ll even be able to stand.” Sasuke snorted.

“Very well then”, said the littlest Uchiha cheerfully, “I’ll tell mother you’re not coming since you’re too busy being fucked on every available surface in your apartment by your best friend.” He blinked at Pein. “I actually think she’ll be thrilled rather than angry, since it’s Pein we’re talking about.” He left.

“You know”, said the orangette, “as much as I’d like to stay here and fuck you on every available surface I don’t think that’s possible.” He looked at his lover, a smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth. “Partially because knowing you, you’ll have nothing edible in your fridge to keep up our stamina, and partially because I need to have a word with Konan.”

“Going to propose again?”, said Itachi frostily. Pein raised his eyebrows; apparently that was quite the thorn in his lover’s side.

“That must’ve really irked you, huh?”, he questioned softly.

“Hn.”

“Plus”, Pein continued, “you have some people to talk to as well, don’t you?”

“Like who?”

“Hoshigaki”, Pein answered immediately, “and he’s only the first on a long list, I think.” Itachi scoffed, snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray on the bedside table. He moved –ever as graceful despite his claims of immobility –across the bed and straddled his lover. Pein groaned as the Uchiha trailed kisses along his naked chest.

“Tomorrow”, said Itachi. It wasn’t a request as much as a decision –a decision Pein could definitely live with.

* * *

Konan’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she spotted the many bruises on his neck. She looked to be one wrong comment away from punching him in the face, and he told himself that he was on rocky ground indeed, and to step carefully. They were, once more, at their usual café and he knew that he would probably be unable to ever set foot in it again. It carried many happy memories for the two of them, and despite how things looked he _did_ love Konan, just not the way he loved Itachi.

“Things… have been complicated”, he started delicately.

“I can see that”, she snapped.

“You said I’ve been distant the last few months…”, he continued –he had to get this out in the open, “…and you were right. I have because –because I realised I was in love with someone.”

Silence. He half-expected her to stand up and leave; the soft, blue hair whipping around her. He’d never seen her look this furious, or –he realised, astonished –defeated. She looked torn between throwing her tea at him and crying. Finally her shoulders slumped and she sighed heavily.

 _‘Kami I hate these situations’_ , he thought bitterly. To win Itachi meant to lose someone very precious to him. It was worth it, but it did nothing to soften the blow.

“I figured as much”, she said sadly, “and you’ve handled it poorly, or rather; appallingly bad.” Pein nodded.

“That I have.”

“So”, she said quietly, meeting his gaze head on, “why would you propose to me when you were in love with someone else?” He looked away.

“I –I’m sorry about that”, he replied, “It was complicated, and apparently, I don’t handle these things very well.” Konan snorted.

“You don’t say.” He looked up to meet her eyes, bracing himself. He was terrible at talking about his own feelings –a bad habit from his youth.

“Konan, I’m sorry. I’ve treated you awfully, and there’s no excuse for that. But I really do like you, you’re one of my closest friends and I’d hate to lose you. That’s probably why I kept going against my better judgement.” She frowned.

“I won’t be able to forgive you that easily, Pein. It’s not that simple.” She glared at the cup in front of her. “And frankly, I don’t see how complicated it could have been. You’re quite wanted amongst women. Is she married or something?” He took a deep breath.

_‘Here comes the plunge.’_

“It’s Itachi.”

Silence. Then, Konan laughed. It wasn’t her usual tinkering laughter, nor was it a false angry barking; it was hysterical with an edge of madness. She laughed until tears spilled from her eyes and she couldn’t sit straight, hunching instead against the table in uncontrollable spasms of mirth. He let her laugh until she was finished and finally regained control of herself.

“Oh, the irony”, she commented at last, “I know I should be angry, but somehow this is just too hilarious”, she took several deep breaths, trying to recover from her violent attack, “so, I suppose the two of you have gotten together then? Itachi must be thrilled.” The final words were painted with bitterness. Pein raised an eyebrow in questioning.

“Oh please”, said Konan derisively, “he’s been after you for ages! Why do you think we can’t stand one another?” Pein stared at her, her words slowly hitting home.

_‘Has everyone but me been aware of this? So much for Itachi’s and my own expertise at reading people.’_

“You and Sasuke have a secret club to make us look like idiots, don’t you?” He sighed. Konan looked amused.

“No such thing”, she said, “look, I can sort of understand your reasons, but I’m still pissed as hell. If I hadn’t slapped you the other day, I would do it now.” She rose from her chair. “But it will pass, I suppose. They say even heartbreak heals eventually.” Pein could do nothing but stare mutely at her as she grabbed her purse, he had never fully understood how much he would hurt her until he saw the crushed look in her eyes.

“Don’t contact me”, she said, “when I have recovered and found myself a new man who is ten times as good as you’ll ever be, and who’ll have the sense to love me whole-heartedly, I’ll call you. Perhaps we can be friends again… but until then –goodbye.”

She walked away, leaving Pein in a cloud of dark musings and ‘what-ifs’. She was not simply a good friend and lover of years walking away, she was a course of his life, a path he had now chosen not to tread. The heavy decision left him empty, battered and cold. It could have been a beautiful pathway, wrapped in flowery scents and surrounded by white-tinged blue shimmer. Was it worth it to abandon it?

He thought of dark, silky hair and ebony eyes. He thought of Itachi’s expression that morning when he left –the corner of his mouth twitched upwards into the smallest of smiles.

_‘Yes. It’s worth it.’_

* * *

“I don’t understand”, Kisame’s voice was filled of badly-concealed despair. Itachi’s hand twitched in annoyance. He flicked his cigarette so that ash danced from the tip unto the ground beside him. They were outside, at some lunch-restaurant right next to the Uchiha building. He _loathed_ this kind of conversation, and this kind of restaurant, and –he looked over at the model opposite him –this kind of _man_. He had settled for sending most of his regular fuck-buddies a text ending all prior agreements, but Pein had insisted he talk personally to those who harnessed deep emotions for him.

 _‘Sappy bastard’_ , he thought, irritated, _‘He might seem all cold and superior, but he’s as bad as that stupid blonde my brother dragged home…’_ , a memory from the same morning flashed briefly through his head and he smirked to himself, _‘he_ is _devilishly good in bed, though, so I’ll probably be able to live through the softie-tendencies.’_

“What could you possibly ‘not understand’?” He asked the African-Japanese man on the other side of the table. “We’re finished. Through. Hopefully, we shall never meet again.” Kisame stared at him.

“But… why?” Itachi quashed the urge to banging his head against the table.

“Because”, he replied with a smirk, “I finally pulled someone worthwhile.” Kisame looked an amusing blend of furious, crushed and insane at the same time.

_‘God, will this never end?’_

“Who?”, the model demanded aggressively. Itachi opened his mouth to tell the idiot that it was ‘none of his goddamn business’, when he was interrupted by a voice behind him.

“Are you done yet, ‘Tachi?” The Uchiha leaned his head backwards to see the pierced orange-head leaning over him. He felt his lips tug into the ghost of a smile, which was returned by his lover. Pein swooped down –very prince on a white horse style in Itachi’s opinion –and kissed him. He could tell the kiss was both longer and more passionate than a greeting needed be, but he didn’t complain and it should certainly get the message across to the thick man across from him.

“Almost”, Itachi answered when they broke apart, he turned to face Kisame, “I believe the question was answered to your satisfaction?” He asked mockingly. The dark man didn’t reply, his face frozen in stony disbelief. Itachi took this as his cue to leave. He stood up, gathered his coat and crushed his cigarette in the ashtray on the table. He was just leaving when Kisame’s choked voice stopped him.

“You-”, Itachi turned back to give the man one last look.

“Goodbye, Kisame.” He swivelled around again and walked past Pein. “Are you coming?” The orange-head caught up to him.

“Always the sensitive approach”, Itachi didn’t need to look to know his lover was smirking. He might complain, but the Uchiha knew that Pein was just as pleased with himself as Itachi.

“How did it go with Konan?” He questioned. Pein shrugged.

“Better than expected”, Itachi felt a sliver of annoyance creep up his spine, “she told me she didn’t want to see me until she was over me, though.” Itachi smirked. A good day had just turned brilliant. No clingy fuck-buddies, no Konan…

“Let’s have sex in my car”, he said smoothly.

“I have to get back to work.”

 _‘Annoying bastardly workaholic’_ , he thought at his lover, frustrated.

“So”, Pein continued, “we’ll just have to settle for sex in my office.” Itachi looked at him.

_‘Ah well, maybe not so annoying.’_

* * *

 

“You know, when Itachi started dating you I thought my night-time disturbances would lessen, not increase…”, Sasuke stated sourly. The younger Uchiha was sitting next to him at the grand oak-table of the Uchiha mansion’s dining room. His boyfriend, the ever-so-dazzling Naruto was sitting on the other side of the younger brother. Pein’s own lover and the mother of the household were both over by the bar, preparing drinks.

“Did you really?”, Pein asked innocently, “you don’t seem very keen on sleep to be honest. And to be frank…”, he lowered his voice , “I think Itachi sees it as a brotherly competition, -who can make the most noise.” Sasuke raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Really? Maybe I’ll just take him up on that…”, his blonde lover snorted into his napkin.

“Mikoto will be scarred for life”, he mumbled, catching Pein’s eye, “I’m kinda surprised she hasn’t told us off for it already.” Pein and Sasuke smirked in unison.

“We wear earplugs.”

The words were casually cold and thrown at them without warning from the stoic man across the table. Uchiha Fugaku, father and patriarch of the Uchiha family stared at them through cold, black orbs. There was a moment of stunned disbelief whilst each of the three youngsters struggled to comprehend what the man had just told them, before Sasuke turned a rosy shade of pink in embarrassment and Naruto averted his eyes, unsure where to look. Pein, however, had always been strangely fond of Fugaku and felt no need to be ashamed of his nightly habits.

“I’m glad to hear you’ve found a way around the disturbance, Fugaku-san”, he replied smoothly. Itachi’s father raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes flashing with mirth and Pein realised the man was about to make one of his rare jokes. They showed up about once every three years or so, but they were usually very entertaining. The pierced man smirked at Fugaku, waiting for the follow-up.

“They do not always mute the sounds completely, however”, Fugaku continued, “so I’ve been meaning to ask you two”, he looked pointedly at Pein who gladly returned the look, and then at Naruto who gulped and forced himself to answer the gaze, “whether you would take interest in trying bondage? Preferably gags and things of similar origin.” Pein had to stop himself from laughing outright, his sadistic sense of humour had always been well in-tune with that of the Uchiha’s father’s, and watching Sasuke turn beet red and Naruto squirm uncomfortably definitely entertained him.

His eyes slid over to his lover who had left the bar and was walking over to his seat next to Pein, and suddenly the hilarity of the joke was exchanged for a much more primal and lusty emotion.

“You know, Fugaku-san”, he mumbled, mostly out of pure spite towards the two younger men, “I might just consider that offer.”

-

When Itachi reached the table he found that the previous peaceful calm had turned into a feeling of extreme tension. Naruto looked terrified, his brother too ashamed to raise his eyes from the table, his father as still and emotionless as always and his lover… looked feral. The older Uchiha brother raised an eyebrow in question.

“What have I missed?”, he asked drily. His lover stood from his seat and walked over to slip his hands around his waist. Pein leaned forward, his breath ghosting Itachi’s ear as he spoke:

“How about trying something… new… in bed tonight, ‘Tachi?” Shivers ran up the shorter man’s spine. New usually meant dangerous when Pein said it, but dangerous in bed usually mean excruciating pleasure when it involved the orangette. Desire dribbled through Itachi’s body, a slow trickle which would undoubtedly become a roaring flood before the night was over.

“Sounds fun”, he murmured back.

* * *

“Are you an alien of some sort?”

The question was so unexpected, and indeed, so out of any previous context that Itachi had to pause and look up from his laptop to make sure he had heard it correctly. Since Pein was staring at him expectantly, he had no choice but believe that his friend of twenty-four years and lover of two months had actually asked him whether he was an extra-terrestrial. Leaning against the back of his chair he pushed his reading-glasses further up his nose and stared questioningly at his lover.

“ _What_?”, he drawled. Pein looked unperturbed by his obvious lack of enthusiasm about the subject.

“Well”, the pierced man said musingly, “I’m trying to form a realistic thesis, and that’s one of the most reasonable explanations.”

“Explanation for _what_ exactly?” Asked the Uchiha coldly. Pein relaxed against the sofa, apparently contemplating his answer.

“I’ve known you for a long time”, he finally said, “and I’ve as good as lived with you for two months now…”

“Yes?” Itachi pressed, irritated.

“And I’m convinced that you can’t be human.” Itachi felt a muscle tick above his left eyebrow.

“And what _inhuman_ qualities do I possess, do you mean?” He hissed.

 _‘Is he pissing me off on purpose?’_ , he thought furiously, _‘I have work to do… maybe he’s trying to rile me up enough to pull off angry sex? Mmm… that would be nice, he gets all animalistic when he’s pissed… which he gets if I’m pissed…’_

“That sexy, sinful seraph thing you do”, Pein said, interrupting Itachi’s lewd reasoning.

“The _what_?” He asked in disbelief. The orange-haired man absent-mindedly played with one of the piercings on his nose.

“The thing where you always look perfect, and whatever you do you just make me want to fuck you through the carpet and down to the next floor.” Itachi stared at him.

_‘What? Not that I’m exactly complaining but…’_

“The sexy, sinful seraph?” He questioned.

“Yes”, replied Pein unabashedly, “you look sexy even when you vacuum… even though I’ve only seen it once. And you look sinfully edible at any given moment.”

 _‘He’s horny as fuck, isn’t he?’_ , Itachi decided, narrowing his eyes at his lover.

“Seraph?” Now, that one he _definitely_ could not comprehend.

“Yeah”, Pein answered, standing up, “that’s really just something that’s stuck with me since we were kids…”, he walked over to Itachi’s chair by the kitchen-table, half-smiling, half-smirking dangerously, “when I was eight or something you fell asleep in my bed when we were studying”, he explained, bending down and kissing the Uchiha lightly on the lips. “I thought you looked really angelic, and I’d just learned the word seraph from some worthless book my father made me read, so I decided you looked like a seraph fallen from the skies. After that, it kind of stuck.” He smiled mischievously at Itachi, who stared back at him. The Uchiha could feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

“And hence the sexy, sinful seraph?” He asked, humoured.

“Mmm”, his lover affirmed, nibbling at the crook of Itachi’s neck, “of course, the other two titles were attached much later… six years or so.”

“You don’t say”, said Itachi, eyes closed as Pein sucked his skin sensually, gracing it with his teeth every now and again. “So how does that make me an alien?” His lover dislodged himself from the Uchiha’s neck to look him in the eyes.

“You’re too perfect to be real”, he explained casually. Itachi felt something warm and pleasant rise through his body, making him feel warm and fuzzy in a way he would never admit to.

“Hn”, he replied, the small smile growing ever-so-slightly. He was sure the minimal increase had not gone unnoticed by violet eyes. “You’re very bored and want to have sex, don’t you?” He asked.

“Perhaps”, Pein answered, a vicious smirk appearing on his face, “but it really is the truth.” Itachi leaned forward and nipped his chin teasingly.

“Mhmm”, he hummed, “so how about that sex?” Pein flashed him a rare grin and pulled him out of the chair and away towards the bedroom.

Much later, when Itachi was too satisfied and relaxed to bother worrying about the work he had left unfinished and Pein had drifted off to sleep with his strong arms still wound around the Uchiha, Itachi lay awake and stared at his lover. With one long finger he traced the features of Pein’s face, sliding effortlessly over the metal nubs on his nose.

“You’re a bit too perfect yourself”, he whispered to the sleeping man, “perhaps we both fell off a cloud somewhere.” Pein’s mouth suddenly twitched into a smile and he pulled the smaller man closer.

“To be honest, Itachi, I don’t think any of us would qualify as having an ‘angelic personality’, so maybe we crawled up from somewhere instead. Lucifer is supposed to have been the most beautiful angel, after all.” Itachi smiled into his lover’s chest.

“I’ll bet he’s gay”, he mumbled, “and though I see your point I think I prefer to give us both the title ‘seraph’ rather than ‘evil minion’ or ‘arch demon’.” He closed his eyes, slowly drifting off. “’love you Pein”, he said sleepily.

“Mmm”, Pein agreed, half-asleep, “love you too ‘Tachi.”

* * *

 


End file.
